Death has forever been the greatest of humankind’s innumerable afflictions. It is an irrefutable fact that when a loved one passes away, those grieving are unrelentingly tormented by their deceased relative’s or friend’s seemingly eternal absence—the opportunity to converse with them is no longer obtainable—the chance to look into their eyes once more has forever ceased—all occasions to hear their voice have vanished into thin air—and those suffering the loss are only—and bitterly—rendered the loving memories of times long past. No matter how strengthening their faith is, one cannot refrain from pondering upon the immortal question of death; is there life beyond the material realm? Indeed, one will never fully uncover the leaden mysteries of the dead and dying, but perhaps shadowed hints can bestow hope and courage upon the doubters and pessimists of the mortal world.

Intermittently, peculiar and unnatural encounters will transpire within the course of one’s life. For instance, the grandmother of a young child will peacefully perish in her sleep. Sometime after the funeral, the child will confide in his parents that he spoke with his grandmother. The parents, confounded by what their child has spoken of, will curiously wonder if their child merely made up his innocent testimony, or if a ghost truly manifested and communicated with him. Furthermore, if this conceptualized child did make contact with the spirit of his grandmother, why was her ghost still lingering in the temporal world? Perhaps she cannot relinquish her time upon the earth, or perhaps she is purely saying her final “farewell” to her beloved grandchild. Children undoubtedly possess a more sensitive and open outlook of the world, and it could very well be that for this reason, they are able to see and interconnect with what their parents cannot.

In other cases of ethereal peculiarities, one might be visiting a historic site. And whether its history is full of great joy, unendurable tragedy, sluggish neglect, or maddening confusion, one cannot help but eccentrically perceive the moods that once hung over these longstanding places. Indeed, this will leave one conjecturing if the memories and emotions that once were continue to reside within the present. Mayhap, there exist spirits that have not yet let go of what they once loved or despised upon the earth—and if this is the reason, do their own emotions continue to imprison them? These deepening enquiries are not without purpose. Most individuals who are living can be exceedingly sentimental about objects, places, and people. One must ask why the living keep portraits or photographs of their family and friends. The reason is conspicuously because when their relatives or friends pass away, one in mourning wishes to retain images that can assure them that they will never disremember their deceased loved one.

The living will also hold onto precious objects that their departed loved ones once used—whether a mere spoon, a chair, a music box, or a beautiful ring, these material items are deemed more than simple objects of the physical universe—memories, familiar scents, and recognizable sounds are overwhelmingly rooted into these items—they are indeed the most valuable objects to a mortal. Additionally, memorable places are also among the most potent of humankind’s sentimentality. Whether they are childhood homes or the homes of dead relatives, long forgotten schoolhouses, permanently closed shops, or even brush-strewn sidewalks that have hitherto brought fond recollections and contentment, these locations all evoke a longing to revisit distant times. And thus, would it be sensible to presume that ghosts hold the same sentiments towards cherished objects, places, or even people?

If this is indeed the circumstance, then it would certainly explain why children tell their parents that they have seen or have even interacted with family that are no longer dwelling amongst the living—it would certainly explain why historic sites can invoke various emotions—it would certainly explain why from time to time, one might witness the apparition of a loved one briefly glide before them—it would certainly explain why treasured objects or pictures of deceased relatives and friends can infrequently attract abnormal happenings. And if beyond the shadow of a doubt—these ghosts do linger today—how can one release them from their ceaseless confinement tomorrow? Should one look to tell these haunting spectres that they shall always be remembered, and that they must move on? Should one tell these lonesome spirits that all lamentation has passed, and they must understand that their death has been acknowledged? Yes, one must allow these troubled ghosts to see that their shackles of purgatory have been broken, and the gates to the next world have consequently opened.